On a steep and curvy path that cuts trough the rocks like water over the ages, a lone wanderer hikes at a steady pace uphill. Dressed in a grey jacket that may have had vibrant colors at one time, a brown leather pants and hiking shoes that have each a big hole that reveals the wanderer all his toes, the shoes laces seemed to be half the length they supposed to be. A rope circles several times around his waiste then goes over his shoulder and back down to be knotted at the waiste, at shoulderheight on his back a bag is attached to the rope with a shoe lace. His face showed many signs that hasn't eaten in a while and hasn't slept good for a much longer period, yould be years. His hair was greasy unmaintained and a beard covered half his face. There was no doubt this man had been traveling for a long time.
He went by the name Feanaro Sirfalas, a name wich was too well known in the city of Berall. But he's far away from his "fame" now, he kept climbing the steep path that seemed to have devided a mountain top in 2, but the path was old and definatly not used on a regular basis, it was sometimes unclear and several fallen rocks blocked the whole path Feanaro climb over them as none of them were larger then Feanaro himself. He traveld uphill for several hours till dusk came. He stopped and seated leaning back to big rock laying several meters away from the path. He looked around and sighed, no vegetation at all. He couldn't see much as his view was blocked by 2 rock walls rising high above him, uphill following the path an orange glowing mountaintop glowed orange, snow reflected the setting sun. He took a book and pen out his bag and wrote a fex lines:
I haven't encountered a living thing today either, it has been 2 days since I've eaten, but I still have some energy left so I won't eat the last of the bread I've been givin by the mentally disabled but extremely gentle man I met 2 weeks ago. I feel I will find food soon, I haven't slept last night, there is no sound but that of the wind hasting over this path but the memory is what really keeps me awake, I often hear their voices in the wind..
He put both book and pen back in the bag and stood up to find a better place rest, a 25 meters further a small gap was in the rock wall, just deep enough for him to fit in with knees bend. He crawled in and tried to slee with his head resting on his bag.
